


The Keys to My Heart

by Cherry101



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dorks in Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Piano, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry101/pseuds/Cherry101
Summary: Sitting at the piano they had saved up so much money for, blonde hair tied up in a half-hearted ponytail, strands of hair falling and ending up strewed across his forehead. His face is scrunched up in something a bit… more than concentration. Besides, the melody repeating itself is so simple, Feliciano can play it, and the piano isn’t his instrument.He’s beautiful is his immediate thought.





	The Keys to My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! This is my gift to http://still-intrepid.tumblr.com for the Rare Pair Secret Santa! I was so happy when I drew their name, finally an excuse to write my boys XD I hope you all enjoy!

Feliciano wakes to the soft sound of the piano. 

 

He’s sleepy still, of course, but his fine-tuned ear picks out the simplicity of what’s being played. It’s a simple melody - the treble clef rings with a repeating C E-flat pattern in an eighth note count, while in the bass clef, two notes play at the same time. A-flat - an octave apart - than, after two full beats, C and G. Repeat and repeat. It’s almost melancholy, a saddened tune, yet still managing to sound… warm. 

 

_ Did I just describe music as being warm?  _

 

_...Yes, yes I did.  _

 

The piano has never really been Feliciano’s instrument. He prefers the trumpet, really, because who doesn’t love a good trumpet? First chair all throughout high school, he made the All-State band three years in a row, always making a first-division rank on his solos… 

 

Yes, trumpet is his instrument, but music is universal, and he knows the piano. Mostly because of his amazing datemate. They’re both in university right now, and, well… 

 

He hears piano a lot. Not that it really bothers him. Waking up to the piano playing a romantic song, breakfast waiting for him atop a silver platter on the nightstand, a glass of milk accompanying it… 

 

Feliciano yawns. Still. Feliks is sort of known for his piano-playing skills. That doesn’t explain why he’s awake at - he glances over at the alarm clock sitting on the bed table - 6:30 in the morning, with classes not until later in the afternoon. 

 

He sits up, stretching his arms. 

 

He loves his naps. Loves, loves, loves them, to the point of debating on taking online classes just so that he doesn’t have to leave his bed. Sleep… sleep is a good thing, and the bed is so  _ comfortable _ anyways. But no, taking music theory and ear-training and sight-singing classes are all much easier in person, where he can get immediate feedback. Still. His sleep is a precious, precious thing, and he’s… well, not the most tolerant of being disturbed. 

 

Piano is fine though. Very fine. 

 

It doesn’t take long for him to wander out of the bedroom of their small apartment. There’s actually two bedrooms, but the other one - directly across the hall, with a bathroom connected between the two - has been converted into a decent music room. The walls aren’t exactly the most soundproofed, but that’s alright. Normally, they only practiced when the other wasn’t home. 

 

However, Feliks welcomes the piano like an old friend, and as such, often finds himself playing at the strangest of times, and playing the strangest of melodies. 

 

Sure enough, that’s where Feliciano finds him, in the end. Sitting at the piano they had saved up so much money for, blonde hair tied up in a half-hearted ponytail, strands of hair falling and ending up strewed across his forehead. His face is scrunched up in something a bit… more than concentration. Besides, the melody repeating itself is so simple, Feliciano can play it, and the piano isn’t his instrument. 

 

_ He’s beautiful  _ is his immediate thought. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He voices, albeit quietly. He doesn’t really want to disturb the gentle peace Feliks is providing. No doubt he’s having flashbacks of a past long forgotten in waking. No, it’s only in dreams that he remembers, only dreams that leave him pondering about a life that leaves nothing to be desired. 

 

If the blonde is surprised by Feliciano’s entrance, he doesn’t show it. He’s never been one to startle easily, not in the privacy of their apartment. Out in public, yes, because he distrusts people he isn’t familiar with, but not here. 

 

“I could if I wanted to,” He says, after a while of nothing but soft music. His fingers - soft and dainty - never falter against the keys, continuing to play the simplistic melody as if they have a mind of their own. 

 

Feliciano slips further into the room, lightly brushing Feliks’ shoulder softly. Now that he can get a better look at his boyfriend, he can see things he missed in his earlier analysis. Feliks doesn’t have the haunted look he does when he awakes after a dream, nor does he look exhausted. Instead, he looks… almost pensive, lost in thought. The simplicity of the melody makes sense now - he’s using it to keep his body busy, while he thinks. 

 

Not that this isn’t normal. Feliks’ ADHD isn’t nearly as bad as Feliciano’s, not enough to demand medical treatment, but it’s  _ there.  _ Evident in the way he jumps from task to task, attention span never able to finish one at a time unless it interests him. Clear in the way his fingers twitch when he is forced to be still, fidgeting and twisting together anxiously. The way his train of thought jumps from one thought to another, and how he loses it completely if interrupted for too long. 

 

“What’cha thinking about?” Feliciano asks, keeping his voice light. He doesn’t normally let this softer side of him come out. To most, he’s just… a hyperactive, hypersensitive,  _ hyper  _ man, always loud, always cheerful, always optimistic. He refuses to allow stereotypes to define him, though. Feliks is the same - he’s so different when he’s alone, or even with others he considers friends. To Feliciano, he shows a different side of himself, one that even his closest friends don’t see. Not like either of the two that can call themselves close friends of his even try to see the man behind the mask. Toris has his own demons to fight, and Elizaveta… she’s a good person, really, but she takes many things at face value. 

 

Of course, thinking of Elizaveta makes him think of high school, when they were closer, and Feliciano pushes the thoughts away. He needs to focus on the present more so than anything, and the past… well, the past is history. 

 

Feliks hums lightly, “Mostly about finals. Toris called - he wanted to invite us to the Christmas party formally, although I’m sure he knows that we would’ve came anyways. What I’m going to wear. I’m thinking of designing a new outfit - I need a new Christmas outfit anyways, my old one is far too outdated. I’m thinking maybe straying away from traditional colors and using blues and silvers. What do you think?” 

 

Feliciano smiles, despite himself, “You do look stunning in blue.”

 

Feliks beams at him, that pensive look in his eyes fading almost completely, replaced by excitement, “You think? I’m thinking something with a half-skirt. You know I hate conforming to gender roles, besides, half-skirts are absolutely fabulous and who cares if they’re in style right now or not? I can probably ask Professor Karimova if I can borrow her studio, maybe a snowflake pattern?” 

 

While he talks, the melody he’s playing speeds up, sounding much warmer than before. 

 

“You’ll be the prettiest one there,” Feliciano’s still smiling, even as he drapes himself over his boyfriend, “You’ll make me an outfit too, right?” 

 

“Well, duh, silly. What’d you think I am, selfish?” 

 

Most seem to think so. Feliks has a way of acting self-absorbed, drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways to test others’ loyalty. It’s a well thought-out act, one that isolates himself from the people he distrusts. 

 

He’s not though. Not really. 

 

“Alright, alright.” He concedes, laughing a bit, “What are you playing? It’s pretty.” 

 

“Oh.” Feliks glances back towards the piano, “I heard it on some Christmas radio. A choir, I think. It took me a bit to find the right notes, and I think I’m missing one, but it’s close enough. I dunno - I guess I’m in the Christmas spirit. Or something.” 

 

Feliciano giggles at that, “Remind me again why you chose to be a fashion designer and not a pianist?” 

 

Being able to play by ear is a gift - one that Feliciano doesn’t share. Sometimes, he doesn’t understand how Feliks does it. How he can easily play the melody of any song he knows, just by fiddling with the keys. How he can play something he heard briefly on the radio with such skill. It doesn’t make sense to him, really. 

 

“Oh please.” Feliks gives a half-hearted shrug, “You and I both know I don’t have the attention span for that. Besides, fashion is my passion and you know it. I’m much happier designing.” 

 

“I know, I know. I’m teasing.” 

 

At this point, the blonde’s fingers have stilled on the piano, the room quiet in the aftershocks.

 

For a minute, neither of them speak. It's a routine the both of them follow - relax, breathe deep, get yourself ready for the hyperactivity yet to come. Both of them wear their masks proudly, but it certainly takes a bit of effort. 

 

Finally, when the silence becomes too loud, Feliciano breaks it. 

 

“It's seven in the morning and our first class is at two. Want to get some more sleep?” 

 

Feliks laughs, a soft twinkling thing that's nothing like his public persona, “Yeah, Feli. Let's get some sleep.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Some notes: 
> 
> I am a choir student and a choir student solely. If I got any of the music parts wrong, please don't kill me. I know music, but not as well as I'd like. 
> 
> The piece Feliks is playing is actually me being salty. It's from a piece called Angels From The Realm of Glory - the opening piano part - which my choir was going to sing on our concert. We ended up not though(which made everybody angry because we all loved that piece) and so... Yeah. 
> 
> I've never written Feliciano before, so he may seem a bit out of character. 
> 
> I see a lot of myself in Feliks, and it kinda shows? The whole ADHD thing is me self-projecting, and since I can play by ear really well(as well as being what they call "pitch perfect") I gave him those abilities as well.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Don't forget to give kudos and comments!


End file.
